Of Mermen
by STRONG Writing
Summary: As requested by a friend of mine, I've begun writing an AU in which Castiel is a merman and Dean is simply smitten after their first encounter. A pardon may be required, as this is my first 'romance' story writing, ever. So... Well, that's basically the whole summary, yeah.
1. Chapter 1

**I have… Too many plot bunnies to count and I can't pin half of them down, but my friend wanted to read a fic about this and there aren't many people she could ask. **

**I honestly don't know if it's been done or if it's something I'll be able to do well, but… Well, I'm gonna take a stab at it. I guess just review or something telling me what I'm doing wrong/right and we'll see if it's fit for continuation. **

**You'll hear from me again at the end of the chapter, I suppose (but it'll be fairly short as I try to get everything sorted out). **

It had been a day ago that Dean had first become interested in the creatures that lived in the ocean. You may wonder; why? Dean didn't usually take interest in subjects he'd need to _study._ Things involving brute strength were generally his strong point; it didn't take much reading to learn how to fix a boat.

His fascination with the aquatic life stemmed from a fishing trip he'd gone on with his brother and father. About five hours into the trip, without a single fish caught _yet—_his father swore they would eventually catch something if they sat around long enough—,he had seen a face surrounded by matted black hair pop out of the waves. The face itself was—if he could say it without going against everything that made Dean the man he was—stunning. Beautiful, even. Startling blue eyes stood out against pale skin, and he found his eyes locked with them. As in, he couldn't look away even if he wanted to. And he didn't. Being pushed and pulled from side to side by waves, it was hard to keep an eye on, but being physically unable to look away from it helped a little bit. Dean thought it might have been some poor drowned bastard, until the face blinked at least five times. A hand broke the surface and seemed to wave in his direction. Without putting any thought into what he was doing, Dean was waving back, smiling as if this wasn't a strange man's face peering out at him from above the waves. He was curious as to what a man might be doing out swimming as far as he was, it wasn't the safest of things to do. Dean made the decision to call out; to ask him if he was in need of assistance, assistance Dean would have given in a heartbeat. Something about those eyes… Even from this distance they shone with curiosity.

Dean's brother, Sam, chose that moment to shout about the fishing lines, tangled up in one-another. John, his father, told him to quit screwing around and to help his brother untangle the lines. Dean spared him a look over his shoulder, and turned back to the stranger. Instead of the face, he caught a glimpse of large, green fins slipping beneath, following a thick, scaled tail.

"Dean!" John and Sam had called for him at the same time, leaving Dean little time to think on what he'd seen just a second before. He barely had time to mask his disappointment. He turned away from the side of the small boat, stepping carefully to avoid capsizing, and walked to his brother. Sam was wrestling with the fishing wire, sputtering a curse or a harsh word of encouragement. Sometimes even a, "Oh, no, it's fine. Take your time; I don't need help or anything."

Needless to say, after removing Sammy from the fishing line, and seeing the state they were in (beyond disentanglement), they needed to turn the boat around and retire for the afternoon, which was alright with Dean because he was starting to roast in the sun. That night, though, he told his younger brother all about what he'd seen. After the initial, 'Why didn't you tell me?', Sam droned on for ages about something called 'mer-folk'. He explained it as a legend of people under the sea, half fish and half human, who would lure sailors to their deaths, or help steer their ships home if you caught them in a good enough mood.

"You really think I saw a mer-folk?" Dean asked, scrunching up his forehead in puzzlement.

"No, Dean. Mer-folk is used to describe more than one. I'm saying I think you saw a mer_man_." Well, _gee_, thanks for that. Nerd.

"You really think so? I mean, you said they were a legend, and aren't most legends, well, not true?" Dean sat back in his chair, looking his brother up and down in an almost sarcastic manner. Sam nodded, and went on to explain to Dean what Dean had just told Sam himself. Dean spent the rest of the night ignoring his brother.

But on this day, Dean was in the library, reading up on his mer-folk.

**Well… **

**Yeah. **

**That took a good couple of hours to write up. Beginnings are hard. Like, really fucking hard to write. **

**Well; good? Bad? Comments, opinions and all other manner of thing are welcome. **

**-D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks, all, for the nice reviews on the last chapter. I'm going to continue now, since, well, I have a couple of ideas as to where this is going and don't want to let you (not to mention the friend for which the story is written) down by not finishing or continuing. **

**I had also noticed the lack of mer-fic in the Supernatural tag, but I wasn't going to say anything. **

**That was, uh, a joke. **

Dean trudged home after a long day of researching and cross-referencing, only leaving because the library staff told him they were closing and he really needed to leave the building. He was pretty sure he knew more than he had ever really wanted to know about mer-folk. Facts buzzed around his head, from the fact that they could somehow communicate with other creatures in the oceans to that of their insufferable vanity. He was pretty dizzy. He could really go for a beer or something right now. However, his phone interrupted his leisurely stroll to the bar.

Flipping his phone open and pressing down the 'accept call' button, Dean raised the phone to his ear and uttered a quick, "Dean Winchester."

"Hey, Dean," It was Sam, "Where are you? You haven't been home all day, and I haven't been able to reach you. Dad's sort'a pissed." Well, he would be. Sometimes Dean couldn't help but wonder why he and his brother hadn't moved into places of their own yet. They both had jobs, they could both afford something small of their own. Even if they couldn't, anything would be better than living with John. He never let them sleep past nine A.M., and didn't let them leave the house unless they gave him a detailed explanation.

"Sorry, Sammy, I was at the library. Kind'a kept my phone silent, didn't want the harpies behind the desk _hissing_ at me or anything." Dean explained. He heard a chuckle from the other end.

"That's rich. Dean Winchester, at the library." Sam had to stop and take a breather, howling out into whatever room he was in at home. "Really though, where were you? You never just don't answer your phone."

"I really was! I was at the library, and there was this-this _bat woman_ hunched over the check-out desk like she was a second away from spewing her _venom_ at me!" Dean cried, lowering his voice after he got a stare from the woman across the street.

"Who was she, Dean? This charade, it would've been much better if you'd chosen a believable cover story."

"Quit it Sam, there _was_ no she!" Dean, exasperated, threw his free hand into the air. "I was at the library all day, looking up your stupid mer-folk!"

There was a squeaking sound on the other end, like Sam sat forward on a mattress. "Oh, so you're serious."

"That's what I've been saying!"

"I didn't think you'd actually go out of your way to research a myth, Dean." His brother explained. Dean could just picture his mocking smirk, running his hands through his gross, girly hair and trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to make sure there was enough information for the myth to be—"

"To be what, Dean?"

"Quit interrupting me!" Dean scolded, "To be real, okay? Enough information for the myth to be real!" He could see it now; his brother running from the bedroom to their father, asking about an institution.

Instead, all he heard was silence on the other end.

"Sammy?" Had he fainted? With the proof Dean had gathered, and Sam being the nerd that he was, it must be a dream come true to find out something like that was actually a thing. "Sam?"

"Dean, you're not seriously thinking mer-people are real, are you?" Sam laughed again, muffled by what Dean supposed was his hand over the phone.

Dean stopped his walking, looking in disbelief at the cell phone in his hands, hoping Sam could somehow guess what he was doing. "Why not? I mean, I saw one! That's proof enough! I just needed more proof, so I could, you know, line it up with the other proof I already had!" All of this unnecessary explaining was making Dean's head hurt. Why couldn't Sam just understand it, it was simple enough the first time he said it!

"Because, Dean, it could have been anything you saw. A swimmer? Some people are just crazy Dean, not to mention we'd been on that boat for hours and it was really hot." Sam was trying, it seemed to Dean, to restore order to the logical world he'd grown up in. "I mean, it could have been some trick of the light or something!" He sounded just a little bit frantic.

"Sam, I know what I saw!"

"Dean, if there were mer-people in the real world, there would be evidence!" Sam all but shouted.

"There is Sam! I just read about a million different books on them, all written by different people, and all of them had the same information—or at least the basics!" He couldn't believe they were actually arguing over this! It was obvious he was right! Sam was just going to have to accept it!

"Dean, come on! Books? What's next? Is Dracula real, too? How about Cthulu?" Dean started walking again, picking up the pace. It was already dark, and his father would be furious with him. He couldn't really do anything to him, he was a legal adult, had been for ten years, but as long as he lived under John's roof, he lived by John's rules.

"Sam! Really?" Dean had had it just about up to here with—

The phone call ended abruptly, Sam had hung up the phone. Dean muttered a curse and shoved his cell into the pocket of his coat. He knew what he saw. It wasn't a damn _trick of the light! _Where did he get the nerve—? Probably John.

But, that didn't matter. What mattered was that Sam was being ignorant; the facts were all there! He just wasn't _seeing_ them! Dean had seen a merman with his own eyes, and Sam was going to get it through his thick head and believe it whether he liked it or not.

With these thoughts in mind and mutterings about all manner of things on his tongue, Dean hunched over in his coat and made the slow trek home.

**That really **_**was **_**a bad joke…**

**Anyway, review and stuff, alright? Tell me how I did? And, uh, don't mention my bad jokes please. **

**-D**


	3. Chapter 3

**thank.**

**Going on. **

**Cas will come back into play**_** soon**_**! I promise! He is the center of this whole story, remember. **

**This story will probably move very slowly, in any case. Apologies. **

The next day, Dean went out on the boat again. He wasn't sure where they'd been on their last trip—he hadn't been paying too much attention—but he was sure he knew the approximate distance from shore. It was as good a place to start as anywhere else.

His thoughts the night before had been caught between the argument with his younger brother and the beautiful creature he'd spotted that started the whole thing. While Sam was berating him for his belief in the merman, Dean was formulating a plan to find him again.

Getting out of the house had been a big issue, since Sam wanted to go with him and make sure he would be alright. Or just to laugh at him if he didn't find it again. He had to get up at four in the morning to escape that bitch. Sure, Sam wouldn't be happy about it, but with Dean out on the water and Sam without a boat, he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. He was sort of looking forward to the ranting he would undoubtedly come home to. At that point, Dean was sure, he would have enough proof to make Sam realize he was right.

The waves pushed the boat along a little once the engine was cut, which was alright with Dean, he knew where he was and he could see the shore. Barely, sure, but it was right there. Call him crazy, but he was pretty sure he could turn the boat back around.

Once he was sure everything was off and he wouldn't suddenly jet off or whatever, Dean leaned over the edge and looked out over the waves.

"This could take hours." He cautioned himself. "In fact, you might never see him again."

"But that's alright, you're Dean Winchester, and you can wait as long as you want." He reassured.

And wait he did.

For a good two hours, he stood by the rail at the back and stared at the water. _Daring_ it to come at him. He couldn't care less what it did, as long as he got to see it again. It was proof he needed; this little shit was driving him insane.

For another hour he sat, waited, looked up at the sky, and drank about two bottles of water.

And for another he contemplated going back to shore to pee.

And for another he made his way back to shore on his small boat, with intentions to come back in the morning and continue his search.

What he didn't see upon his departure was the pair of dazzling blue eyes watching him go.

**Damn, this is a difficult story. **

**Anyway…**

**Reviews? Questions? Anything? **

**-D **


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm hoping this'll be a longer chapter than the others have been thus far.. Don't know if it'll work out that way yet. **

**Wish me luck, everyone, and I guess you'll find out when you're reading this. **

The next day, Dean took the boat out again. He hadn't seen anything yesterday, sure, but he had hope that today would be different, and he would see his merman again.

It was a quiet day. There was little wind, though, being the ocean, there was always a good amount of that. Settling himself at the side of the boat, Dean scanned the horizon in all directions. There was nothing at first, but there was still time. It was only five in the morning. It wasn't even daylight yet. Yes, he had time. All the time in the world.

Every wave brought with it the flapping sounds of trash and fish, the occasional bird settling on the water. Dean made an effort to check for the source of all of these sounds anyway, to be sure he hadn't missed him.

However the real problem wasn't that he wasn't being observant enough, but it was that he wasn't looking in the right places. The merman had indeed come back that day, to look for his human, but to remain the unknown observer, he'd hidden himself under the boat. Peeking up occasionally to see if Dean was done running around on the deck from side to side. Thankfully, he made little noise when he did so, and Dean didn't yet notice his presence there. He was beginning to get anxious, though, wondering when he should reveal himself. Or if he even should. His brothers and sisters had told him too many times how dangerous humans were. He was thought to be far away from this place, actually. The thing was, he couldn't have stopped watching Dean if he wanted to. He was fascinated by him, loud and obnoxious as he was.

He popped his head up once more, to check again if he needed to remain in hiding. He didn't hear any of the frantic footsteps of the past few minutes, so he raised himself a little higher and reached up to one of the ropes hanging from the side. It was fastened there for decorative purposes; John wanted his boat to look good out on the water. Impressive yet simple, he'd said.

Dean, now leaning against the bow, had stopped his running about in favor of the much less exhausting task of turning his head from side to side while he stood in one position. He could see everything at a distance, and immediately in front of the boat. Dean was bored. Well, of course he was, what with standing alone on a boat miles from shore. He wished, for a moment, that he'd brought Sam along. While he wouldn't be interested in much besides criticizing Dean and his search, any conversation would be welcome at this point. He licked his chapped lips and huffed a small sigh.

The merman rounded the boat slowly, careful not to draw attention to himself, to get a better look at Dean. Blue eyes roamed the features of his face and upper torso, the rest of his view obstructed by the side. He caught the color of his eyes, a green like the seaweed, he thought to himself. It wasn't a good comparison at all, though, since seaweed was a pretty big nuisance and Dean was, well, not.

Dean cleared his throat, and in a moment of panic, the merman pushed himself back under the water with a splash that drew the other man's attention. He didn't see the head of dark hair swing it's way under his boat, though, and looked away again. The merman surfaced again on the other side of the boat.

"You know," Dean began, further pulling at the focus of the merman with his voice, which was surely no different from other voices yet had a strange pull on him, "In case you're listening; I'm not here to bother you or anything." Dean pressed his head into his hands and chuckled lightly. "I'm talkin' to the air. Look at me, Sammy; I'm talking to the air." He leaned his elbows on the edge and continued, "I know you're down there, though. And, you know, I haven't been able to think of anything else." This bit intrigued the merman, if for no other reason than because he'd been thinking the same thing.

"Anyway, my name's Dean, and since I know where you live I suppose it's only fair you know I live right around…" Dean waved his hand at a portion of the short, "Somewhere in there." Knowing that he was alone and continuing to speak made him fear for his sanity, sure, but he was here to make nice, and if he had to take some initiative, he would do so gladly. He wasn't just sitting around to sit around. No, he was sitting around for a higher purpose.

The merman watched intently, following the movement and taking note of it for later. Whatever he would need it for later would be anyone's guess at the time.

The pair sat in silence for a while, only one knowing he was in the company of the other, until a cracked voice muttered a hasty, "I am Castiel."

**Wow, guys, I actually think it's getting easier. **

**Anyway, uh, thoughts? **

**Thank. **

**-D**


	5. Chapter 5

**Alrighty, I have no little blurb planned out for today, so I guess… Let's keep on truckin'. Er, writing. Writin'. **

**Nevermind. **

Now, after the initial shock of hearing somebody else's voice while you're alone on the water (and jumping backwards, landing on his ass, and shrieking like a little girl), Dean pulled himself together and leaned over the side of the boat. He got a glimpse of the frightened bobbing of the head of his merman. This 'Castiel', it seemed, had been startled by his shouting (Dean Winchester didn't shriek).

"Oh no, no,no! It's okay, it's okay!" Dean assured, waving his hands out over him to get Castiel's attention back to himself. He stilled again and looked Dean in the eyes, just staring. He didn't say anything, and that was fine with Dean because he didn't think he'd be able to reply.

"Are you alright?" Castiel asked, snapping Dean out of his stupor.

"Oh, uh, yeah."

"You had a strange look on your face."

Dean nodded; he probably had. He wasn't quite used to being speechless yet. He would make an effort not to let it happen again.

"You have been thinking of me?" The merman asked, hoisting himself up further to be better able to look Dean in the face. He was leaning on his forearms, holding a good amount of his tail out of the water as well. After Dean was sure he wasn't still seeing things, and staring at it for just a moment, he realized he'd been asked a question. And a truly awkward one at that. Saying what he'd really been thinking at the time would be going against everything he'd ever preached. How could he say, 'Oh, you've really been the only thing on my mind for four days,' without sounding like a little bitch?

"Well, about that—"

"I have been thinking of you as well." Castiel cut in, eyes seeing fit to roam over Dean's face countless times before looking back into his eyes. "It's strange; you aren't the first human I've seen. So, why?"

"Hell if I should know." Dean replied, getting sucked right back into the stare again. He couldn't very well make the same argument; before he saw Castiel he hadn't even known mer-people existed.

"It must be something about you, specifically, then… But I don't know what." Castiel seemed to be moving into his own mind inch by inch, and Dean was sure that in a minute he wouldn't even remember Dean was there. He snapped his fingers in front of his nose, and his companion snapped out of it.

"Hey, you still with us?" Dean grinned. Castiel watched him twitch in that same position for a while longer, and then nodded.

"Yes, of course." He answered curtly.

"And to think my brother didn't think you existed!" Dean muttered, caught halfway between poking Castiel anywhere he could and, well, not doing that.

"What do you mean? The last time I heard from you, every human on earth knew of our existence." Castiel tipped his head to the side, and his eyebrows knitted in confusion. Dean thought momentarily that this was adorable, but stopped that train of thought instantly. This wasn't adorable, this was a man-fish who was clearly _way _out of the loop.

"Oh yeah, and when did you last hear from us?" He inquired, quirking an eyebrow.

"I don't know, it is hard to keep track of time living under water." Castiel thought back to his last encounter. "I do remember that the last fishermen I saw were there to plead for safer waters to sail, after a large storm. It had been easy enough the quell, and they didn't need to ask with such fear—we are actually a peaceful people."

"Well, the last storm was in October, and nobody talked of mermen then, either." Dean commented, leaning on the side of the boat to the right of Castiel. He mused over how strong Castiel must be to be able to hold himself up out of the water so long with only his arms.

"So, Dean, what is your brother like? I would like to make a comparison to my own."

Dean wasn't all that surprised to learn that Castiel had siblings, almost everybody did around here. Why should people living in the ocean be any different? "Well, his name's Sam—I call him Sammy, though, annoys the hell out of him—and he's a giant nerd. I mean giant literally, too, this kid is tall. He has to duck to get into the house!" Castiel listened, hung onto every word, and stored them away for future reference. "He's got all this college crap hanging around; dropped out two years in, I think. Still had more of a student career than I did, but," He shrugged. That was all that really needed to be said about Sammy, without going into too much detail.

"He sounds interesting." Well, that was just about the opposite of what Dean thought, but Castiel was a merman, so who knew if they had nerds down there. "All of my brothers and sisters are equally so; they're all very clever and they have several skills each. My brother Balthazar, for example, is very good at languages. He can speak just about everything in Europe. My sister Anna is well traveled. I've not left home, though." He concluded his short rambling with a cough. It was no wonder, he sounded like he had a permanent case of frog-in-throat.

"They sound like they would make best friends with Sam; he's always loved languages. Took to Latin really easily."

"And what about you, Dean?" Castiel asked, resting his head on his hands, albeit awkwardly since he was still pushing down on the boat.

"Not much to tell. I dropped out of school in senior year—that place wasn't going to help me at all, nothing they taught was gonna carry on into my life later, see—and now I live with Sam and my dad in the town over.." He gestured to the shore again.

"I see." The merman looked at the rough plastic deck of the boat, "Perhaps if I went to school I would know what half of that meant." Dean laughed, and Castiel joined in after a little bit. It was nice, Dean thought, laughing along with somebody. Sure, he and Sam made the occasional joke both of them found funny, but this was fresh and the conversation was different. The conversational partner was different.

They were interrupted then, when Dean's cell phone rang. Wondering how he got reception out here on the boat, he flipped it open and answered with a quick, "Dean."

Castiel watched in awe as Dean spoke into the small machine, and gasped when another voice—angry, it seemed—spoke back at him. It was harder to hear, but if he strained he could hear them well.

"Dean, where the hell are you?" It was Sam, and Dean cursed inwardly before answering him.

"Sam, hello to you too. I'm out on the boat."

"What the hell are you doing out on the boat?" He could _hear _the bitchface in Sam's tone.

"Oh, you know me. I love the waves, and the salt, and the sunburn. Just so exhilarating." He snarked. "What do you think I'd be doing out on the boat?"

"Dean, tell me you're not still looking for this merman." Sam sighed heavily into the receiver, and Dean grinned widely.

"No, Sammy, I found him! He's right here, right next to me right now!" Dean held the phone up to Castiel, who watched it warily, and he leaned back slightly when it was thrust into his face. "Cas, say hi!"

"Who is Cas? I thought this was Sam." Castiel said, squinting. Dean nodded.

"It is, Castiel, just say hi." Well, since it seemed to be a big deal,

"Hello." Castiel said, and Dean pulled the phone back up against his ear.

"Dean, who was that?" Sam asked, wondering who his brother could have possibly found to go on the boat trip with him. They had a very small circle of friends, and as far as he knew all of Dean's friends were people Sam was familiar with. He didn't recognize the voice of this one, though.

"Sam, this is Castiel. He's the merman! I found him!" Dean was ecstatic, waving his free hand around as if it was helping him prove his point. Probably more to release his extra energy.

"Uh, huh." Sam agreed, the sarcasm dripping from his voice wasn't lost on Dean, though. "You found the merman, and his name is Castiel. And somehow you managed to get him onto your boat?"

"No, see, he's hanging on the side of the boat—"

"Dean, I don't have time for this! We were supposed to meet Jo at the game an hour ago! She's going to kick your ass, dude!"

Dean slapped himself in the forehead, groaning, "Ugh, I totally forgot! Sam, could you cover for me until I get there?"

"I don't think that's gonna work, Dean, she's already pretty mad. I need to forcibly hold her back from the phone right now." Sam hissed something, probably with his hand over the speaker, and then continued, "Dean, I gotta go! Get your ass over here!" And then Sam hung up.

"Sorry, Castiel, I'm going to have to go." Dean apologized, and Castiel nodded.

"I understand. If you have plans, you should honor them." He slipped down into the water again.

"You gonna be there tomorrow?" Dean asked, as casually as he could while rushing around on the deck.

"Of course. Does this mean I will see you then?" Dean nodded, and Cas hummed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Dean." And with that, he slid under the waves and was gone. Dean watched the spot where he'd disappeared for a minute longer, and then started the engine to head home.

**It got easier and then got harder again. **

**Don't worry, though, I've got the rest of the plot falling into place, and I'm sure I can get it all down!**

**Review or something, yeah? **

**-D **


	6. Chapter 6

**Alrighty, I should get started considering I couldn't post last night. **

**Wish me luck; I'll let you know if it worked later. **

"Sorry, sorry I'm late, guys!" Dean trotted up to the bleachers. He'd driven as fast as the speed limit would allow (sometimes more than that, when he caught an empty road) and got there only a half hour after he'd gotten Sam's call. "I was out on the boat."

Sam nodded, evidently angry with his brother, and his new obsession.

"What were ya' doing out there, Dean? You never showed too big an interest in fishing before." Ash said, giving Dean a slap on the back.

"Oh, I can answer that!" Sam pulled a bitchface, directing it at his brother. "See, Dean here thinks he's seen a merman, and he's been out on the boat for days looking for it." Sam explained. The rest of the group laughed, and Ash even fell off the side of the bleachers. He smirked, his job done.

"No, Sam—"

"_Oh, Dean!_" The singsong voice froze everyone, and Dean slowly looked over his shoulder.

Jo, dressed in full softball attire, grinned like a wolf. "Where-ever _were_ you this past hour and a half?" She must have been substituted. Shit! Dean thought he would have more time to think up an excuse than this!

"See, Jo, I was out working, fishing for dad. See, he's really sick so I had to go get the day's quota so he could sleep, and…" Dean trailed off, noting her expression, and looked past her to the other side of the field. In the bleachers opposite, John was shouting at the opposing team about cheating and bad sportsmanship.

"Wow, I can tell." He felt she was using an unnecessary amount of sarcasm. "So, really, what was so important you forgot my season's first game?"

"Well," Ash picked himself up from the grass, leaning on Dean as he did so, "Sam tells the story better than Dean probably could. So, how about it, Sam?"

"Yeah, Sam, we could all use another laugh." Andy shouted down from his seat. He had surrounded himself with bags of food and drink if the group or the team got tired. He was sort of like a team mom. Well, if Ellen wasn't already the team mom. As they spoke, she was yelling at a poor girl who'd tripped into the leaning bats.

"Alright, alright." Sam chuckled, gesturing for Jo to come on up and listen. She glanced back at Ellen, who nodded absentmindedly, continuing to criticize the clumsy girl, who was busy replacing the bats. "See, about four days ago Dean, John and I were out on the family boat, fishing." Jo nodded, listening intently. "Where Dean gets the thought into his head that he's seen a merman. He's been obsessing over it for days, and he's been out on the boat since this morning looking for the thing." Everyone started laughing again, Jo tearing up and falling forward onto Tessa, who shoved her off. "Oh, but get this! Today, he says he found him!" Jo blinked, calming her laughter.

"Hah, what?" She asks, eyes darting over to Dean, who was shrugged into his coat and avoiding everyone's eyes.

"He says his name's Castiel, and that he was on the boat with him!"

"Wow, Dean, never figured you the type for fairy tales." Chuck butted in, laughing nervously along with the others. Jo nodded, her own laughter dying.

"He wasn't _on the boat_, Sam, he was hanging off the side." Dean shot back, earning another riot from his brother and the guys. Tessa had gone back to doing… Whatever she'd been doing in the first place, Dean wasn't really sure. Jo was just staring past him at the field.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Sam mocked, holding his hand over his heart and snickering.

"Really, Sam, it's not that funny," Jo muttered, and Tessa nodded in agreement, more annoyed than anything else.

"_Thank_ you!" Dean cried in exasperation. "I'm telling you Sam, he's out there now, and I'm going to go back to see him tomorrow."

Sam nodded, still biting back laughter of course. Everyone else had gotten the message and shut up, but Sam was that thorn in his brother's side, and that was where he'd like to stay. "Alrighty, Dean. Okay."

Dean wanted to let the subject drop, and sat on the bleachers. Soon, idle conversation started back up, Chuck and Tessa conversing about some form of poetry and Andy slapping Ash on the back of the head until Ash spun around and knocked him off the seat. Jo was called back into the game, and Ellen went back to coaching in her own unique way (shouting at everyone to move their asses because they had a game to win! She wasn't going to have any shit like losing the first game of the friggen season, ya' hear!). John was still across the field cheering enthusiastically, and from what Dean could tell everyone nearby him wanted to toss him from the game.

.

Jo's team won the game, after a lot of pressing from Ellen to do their friggen best to win the game for a poor old woman. The gang packed up their things and prepared to go home, most of the guys riding back with Jo and Ellen to celebrate with the team. The rest of the girls piled into two vans, one belonged to Ellen and one to John. It wasn't really unexpected that they fought over who would go with Ellen, nobody really wanted to be in the same car with John after a win. Well, however they worked it out, the team split into their vehicles and they all met up at a crowded restaurant. The waitresses nearly passed out seeing such a large party, and an hour later they were still in the waiting room on the crowded couch, but a while later they were seated. Several tables had to be pushed together to seat them all in one place, and there didn't seem to be any other customers at this time of night. They were open twenty-four hours, but that didn't mean anybody actually went to dinner at eleven o'clock at night. Well, unless you were the winning softball team. Dean didn't understand at first, but Lisa, another player, had explained that the winning team got dibs on the whole restaurant and the losing team just had to deal with it. It was a pre-established rule, and nobody really understood it, but they weren't going to question it.

Jo took a seat next to Dean, with Jess on her other side. Sam sat across from Jess, and Dean knew from the way he kept looking up from behind his menu at the blonde that he was all over that one. She looked back sometimes, and wasn't that just the cutest thing?

After ordering, and scaring their waitresses (for they needed two to get everyone accounted for) half to death with the sheer amount of food they wanted, everyone fell into comfortable conversation. Dean was just talking with Ash about his baby when Jo tapped him on the elbow. He looked her way, and she tipped her head to one of the booths across from their table(s). Dean excused himself from his conversation, realizing he wouldn't be missed when Garth started talking to Ash about his hobbies (God only knew where he got these insane things).

"Yeah?" He asked once they'd seated themselves in the booth. Jo pursed her lips and asked,

"Were you serious? Before, at the game?"

Dean sucked in a breath, looking her in the eye before responding. "Yes."

She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. He quirked an eyebrow, asking her to explain. "You see," She began, "I also saw a mermaid once. I was out on the boat with Mom, and she wasn't looking, but I saw this woman sitting in the water, staring at me. I was about to ask if she was alright, you know, if she needed help getting back to shore. Was gonna show her to my mom, but then she dove underwater. But the thing was, she had a tail!" Dean nodded, that was about how his own first encounter began. "I told Mom, but she said I was just imagining things, that it was a trick of the light. But I was always thinking; what if she was really there? I mean, no trick of the light could do _that_, could it?"

"Uh, no." Dean offered in response. At least _somebody_ believed him. Jo, glad to have found somebody to finally share her story with, grinned. She stood from the booth and took her seat back at the table. Jess turned to face her and giggled, probably something about their conversation. Jo shook her head and laughed along, Dean returning to the table himself.

"So, Dean, you and Jo." Ash laughed, and Dean scrunched up his face. No way in hell, the girl was like his little sister! Jo giggled, and Jess leaned over the table to talk to Sam.

Dean took another look at Jo, and then let his mind wander. Tomorrow he would go back on the water like he'd promised.

**Yeah, I think that worked out pretty well. **

**Also, any luck you would have wished me at the beginning of the chapter wouldn't have helped anyway since the chapter was written previously to your reading. Joke's on you! **

**Or me, 'cause I didn't get any luck.**

**Review? **

**-D **


	7. Chapter 7

**So, this story has gained a pretty sweet following since it began. I'd just like to thank all of you quickly for subscribing and reviewing, and just reading really. **

**Thank. **

**We dive, now, readers, further into the plot. **

Dean got up early the next morning, as he had been doing every day for the past week or something, and drove out to the harbor. He was really excited about seeing Castiel today. Now that they had spoken a little bit, Dean felt they really hit it off. He could see this becoming something grand. For a moment he imagined them both running around in spandex suits fighting crime, but shook that off almost immediately. No, something grand didn't need to mean superheroes. He didn't think he had it in him to be a superhero anyway, all the responsibility and bravery and—who was he kidding! He had all of that and more, he was frickin' Dean Winchester!

Still, the superhero thing was a really bad idea, and he hoped it never popped up again.

Although…

No!

Dean returned his thoughts to his new friend, all the things they could talk about now that they knew each other existed.

There was nobody else on the docks this early in the morning, and Dean walked along humming a little tune, he couldn't quite place it, there was too much going on in his head to try. He walked past lines of boats and further out until he reached the very end of a string of floating white plastic docking (they ran out of space with the wooden ones, and they were sort of on a budget. Everyone with a boat in the harbor pitched in and they got a bunch of the little floating things. They found out you could tie them together and chain them to the rocks on the sea floor. They were actually pretty handy) and his father's boat. Dean stepped onto the boat and grinned, about to untie the rope when he heard a voice from behind him on deck.

"Dean."

Dean jumped what he assumed to be about five feet in the air and shouted "_Son of a bitch_!" loud enough to wake the woman living in the house next to the harbor. Upon landing (not on his feet) back on the deck, Dean glared around the boat, catching somebody falling back against the wall about as startled as he was. "Cas, what the hell are you doing on the boat?" Dean shouted, picking himself up off his ass and stomping his feet.

"Dean, my name isn't Cas, it's Castiel." He sure looked like Castiel. He had the same hair and the same face, same shaves-but-not-too-often look to him (how would mer-people shave anyway? Dean asked himself), and the same piercing blue eyes, but what he didn't have was, well, the giant tail. _This_ Castiel had legs, and, oh, well, no pants. Dean took to looking off into the sky instead of at the other man on the boat.

"Alright, sorry Castiel. Just sort of. Wow, you seem to be missing something." Dean chuckled nervously, shuffling his feet in a very not-Dean-Winchester way.

"What?" Castiel asked, standing up. Dean shook his head, continuing to look anywhere but at Castiel. This seemed to be annoying the merman, but he didn't voice his opinions.

"Oh, the uh. The tail. You're missing the tail." And, you know, clothing. But that bit remained unsaid.

"It isn't missing, it's merely changed so I can walk on land." He replied, completely undeterred by the awkwardness that was _this whole situation_.

"Huh, yeah I guess it has. Okay so, uh, what're you doing out of the water, Castiel?" Dean asked again, tapping his fingers on the side of the boat.

"I came to see what has changed since I have last been here. I was simply waiting for you to return so you could show me." Castiel explained, taking a couple of steps closer, to which Dean's response was the dance a little to the side and back.

"Well, Cas, see, there's one thing that hasn't changed." Dean began. Cas tipped his head to the side and waited for him to elaborate. "You'll need pants."

"Very well." Castiel seemed to be waiting for something. Dean wasn't sure what, but he had a feeling he knew where this was going. He didn't like it, though.

And that was how Dean Winchester drove home in his boxer shorts.

And to think it was supposed to be a relatively normal day.

Well, normal with a side of crazy.

But hey, at least he and Castiel would get to spend more time together, right? _Right_?

The car ride home had been interesting, to say the least. Castiel kept asking questions about things like street signs or the radio. Sometimes there were even questions about street signs about the radio. Well, that happened once. Small towns like theirs didn't tend to have too many billboards. The questions descended from street signs to lawn gnomes ("They're terrible creatures, gnomes. Why would you want to invite one into your garden? He will no doubt infect your vegetables with diseases and rot." Castiel had muttered) and tiki torches. Dean never thought he would see the day when he had to explain to someone how a tape player worked. The ride couldn't have been short enough, and Dean thought he would never be drunk enough to answer all of these question if he'd made an effort. He did the best explaining he could, though, because Castiel hadn't been on land in decades and he needed to be patient.

They managed to get home in twenty minutes, and Dean was relieved to see that there were no lights on inside. That meant (most likely) that nobody was awake yet. Then again, Sam had a habit of roaming the house without the lights on late at night. He had hope that it meant they were safe for now.

"Is this your home?" Castiel asked, fiddling with the door handle, trying to get it open. Dean got out himself and opened the door for Castiel on the other side so he wouldn't damage his baby.

"Yeah, pretty sweet, huh?"

"It's very humble." Castiel replied, and when Dean pulled a face, he continued, "Dean, my own home was a palace under the sea, made from rock and sand with spires on each corner. You cannot expect me to be impressed by something so small."

"It's two stories, Cas. That's the average up here on land." Dean sighed, unlocking the door.

"Well, I did not expect anything extravagant." He said, stepping through the door and glancing around all of the visible rooms (the foyer, dining room, and the living room). "And I was right in doing so. This would not have been enough space to house all of my brothers and sisters."

"Dad got around, huh?" Dean joked, tossing his keys into the bowl on the dining room table. Castiel turned and gave him another _look_; Sam would have been proud. "Listen, Cas, I gotta go get some pants on, since I can't walk around in my shorts all day. You- sit here or something. I'll get you something, too." Dean doubted it was acceptable to wear nothing but jeans, even in this house. He at least needed some underwear.

"It's Castiel." Castiel stated, and sat down in one of the chairs. Well, alright. Excuse him for trying to save a couple of seconds.

"Yeah, okay." Dean stomped up the stairs to his room, passing Sam's room with less fervor in the hopes of letting him sleep a little longer and avoid talking to him. He pulled on another pair of pants and tossed a shirt and some shorts over his shoulder for his friend. He just sort of pulled them off of the floor, but he was sure Cas wouldn't mind. I mean, he lived under water with all of those smelly fish. He swam in fish shit. Dean doubted he would mind if his shirt smelt a little bit. Nothing was crusty, so it was all good.

He took off back down the stairs, tossing the shirt and underwear to Castiel and pointing to the bathroom. "Put that on." Cas nodded and went in that direction, and Dean walked into the kitchen, coming off the dining room. It wasn't a long wait before Castiel came back out and met Dean in there.

Dean was making a pot of coffee, only too aware of the fact that five in the morning was too early for it. "So, what was it exactly that you wanted to see?" He asked.

"Everything." Cas replied, leaning back on the counter and watching Dean and his magical machine. "What does that do?"

"This makes coffee, Cas."

"My name is Castiel."

"Yeah, well, sometimes it's gonna slip, Castiel, I can make a mistake." Dean retorted, hunching lower over his coffee machine.

"No, it's fine." Then why were you making such a big deal of it, princess? Dean felt like he was going to scream, but then he reminded himself; Patience. After a moment he asked, "What's coffee?"

Wow, had he really been gone that long? Well. "It's something humans need to drink to deal with early-morning annoyances and to cope with the sleepless day ahead." Castiel's eyebrow quirked up at the mention of early-morning annoyances, but he didn't say anything.

"You drink it?"

"No, you pour it onto your head and dance." Dean replied, sarcastically of course. Remembering that he may do just that, Dean piped up, "Yes, you drink it."

"I don't understand. Do you drink it or do you—"

"You drink it, Cas."

**That was surprisingly fun. **

**Sorry I haven't updated in a few days, but, eh. Real life got in the way. Again.**

**Review and stuff? **

**-D**


	8. Chapter 8

It was a couple of hours later before the rest of the house woke up, and it really only happened because they got a phone call. Dean decided he wasn't even going to try picking it up, considering Sam kept the phone next to his bed and would jump up to grab it immediately. After the first ring it went silent, so Dean shrugged and went back to drinking his coffee. Castiel had jumped at the sound, and was looking everywhere for the source; this included under the table and on the ceiling.

"What was that horrible noise?" Cas asked, still searching.

"It was the phone, don't worry about it." Dean replied.

"What's a phone?"

"A phone helps people communicate with each other long-distance." Dean dismissed the topic, and both of them went back to their drinks. Castiel thought that the coffee had an interesting—not particularly good—taste, and refused to stop drinking it despite the fact. Dean tried telling him that not _everybody_ drinks coffee (only the sane), but he was determined to learn. Apparently that meant he had to do a little bit of everything.

Castiel finally finished his coffee and put the mug down on the table, looking across it at Dean. "What do you do up here?"

"Meaning?"

"How do you entertain yourself up here on land? It seems quiet and boring." He elaborated, and Dean shot a glare in his direction. Sure, it was boring most of the time but he didn't need to be so blunt about it!

"Well, Cas, we have friends to entertain us so we don't _have_ to do it ourselves." He snarked, getting up to put his own empty mug in the sink where dirty glasses belong. He gestured for Cas to do the same, but he didn't seem to get the message. Dean put his away, too.

Castiel seemed to be in deep thought at the time, though looking more like he was constipated than anything else. He stared off into space, looking at nothing in particular as he mulled over something in his head. Finally he piped up, "I should like to meet your friends, Dean. I had few in the sea, and it would be nice to have some on land."

"Well," Dean weighed the pros and cons of introducing his merman to his rather 'different' group of friends. "Yeah, I suppose if I can get a hold of some of them you could meet a couple."

It was at that time that Sam decided to come blundering down the stairs, like the elephant he was. "Hey, Dean, that was Ash. He said he was pretty hung over from last night and all he can see are shapes, but that Ellen wanted us to stop by and pick up some stuff for John later." He yawned somewhere in there, and then walked into the kitchen to find Castiel staring at him from the end of the table.

"Are you Sam?" Castiel asked, not blinking. Not moving. Sam visibly cringed under the stare, and turned to Dean, pulling him over and hissing at him,

"Who is that?"

"Sam, this is Castiel. He's the merman from the other day on the boat." Dean answered smugly. Sam would have pointed out that merpeople generally have tails, but Castiel interrupted before he could get it out.

"My apologies, I didn't realize you were so shy." Dean laughed.

"I'm not shy, it's just not every day for me to walk into my kitchen and see a strange man sitting at the table, that's all." Sam said, turning back to Dean, who was smirking and biting down his laughter. "Dean, why is he here so early? It's, like, six."

"I've come to see how much the land has changed since I last walked it." Castiel answered for him. He stood from the table and walked closer to Sam, visibly sizing him up.

"Yeah?" Sam let out a nervous chuckle. "How's that working out for you?"

"Much has changed, and there isn't much I understand. Dean is going to help me." He nodded to the older brother. "For instance, the last time I was here, people were not this tall." Sam found himself noting that if this man wasn't joking, lying, or outright crazy, that was a really long time to be off of the land.

"Hey, Cas, you can come with us to Ellen's place!" Dean jumped in. Cas nodded, smiling slightly.

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea. Would I be meeting this Ellen?"

"And her daughter Jo. Ash is over there too, and I think Jess spent the night." Dean elbowed Sam in the ribs, and Sam grimaced. "Good news for you, Sammy."

"Oh," Castiel muttered something they couldn't understand under his breath, be that it was too quiet or that he had spoken another language. Dean nodded, waggling his eyebrows, and Sam pulled a face.

**Short chapter, short chapter, oh lovely short chapter, why did you talk so long to write~? **

**Anyway, you know what to do at this point.**

**Sorry about the sheer amount of **_**bad**_** in this chapter, but, I digress.**

**-D **


	9. Chapter 9

The three companions piled into the car about an hour later, not surprised in the least that John _still_ wasn't awake. Oh well, his alarm clock would wake him soon enough. Dean turned on his tape player, and loud drums filled the car. Sam rolled his eyes, and Castiel guessed he had to listen to this music every time they were in the car. Cas also found that the back seat was a lot more comfortable in comparison to the front, and decided that he would sit there every time they took a ride for the duration of his land-walking trip. Dean laughed, telling him that the front seats had the better view, but Castiel wouldn't hear anything about it, opting to stretch his legs out across the seat and lean against the door. Sam did tell him it wasn't safe, but he shrugged it off. Dean also laughed at Sam for his comment, telling him that Dean would never get into an accident, so his concerns were misguided and useless.

As they passed several houses, Castiel tapped Sam on the shoulder and pointed to one in particular. "That house has a 'garden gnome' in their garden. Apparently they are for decoration, to make it more cheery, despite the fact that gnomes are notorious tricksters and would probably rip you in half before sitting idly in your garden with your rotting vegetables." Castiel didn't catch the look of disturbed confusion that crossed Sam's face after he said this, and continued pointing out to him all of the things on the side of the road. If he didn't understand the purpose of the stacks of bricks on the lawn, or the swingset just visible past the fence in the backyard, he would ask Dean, and Dean would reply almost patiently. Sam had never known his brother before this day, he decided, that he could be this calm about explaining things most people would know at the age of four. "And over there there is a pink flamingo. Do not worry, it is actually plastic, and cannot move from it's position. If so, it would be very tired, holding it's leg up like that for the twenty-odd years it has been sitting on the lawn."

"Are we there yet?" Sam asked Dean in mild exasperation.

"Does it look like we're there yet, Sammy?" Dean deflected, looking straight ahead.

"What is that?" Castiel tapped Sam on the shoulder this time, pointing over Sam's other shoulder out the window at a basketball hoop at the end of a driveway.

"That's a basketball hoop, Cas, you use it to play basketball."

"What's basketball?"

"You toss an orange ball around, and whoever gets it through the hoop more times wins the game." Sam explained.

"Dean, we should play basketball." Castiel stated, leaning back in his seat again, content with the answers he'd been given.

"Sure, Cas, whenever we get the chance."

They kept driving, leaving their little town and moving onto a highway. There were substantially fewer things for Castiel to question here on the highway, so both brothers breathed a silent sigh of relief. The merman in the back seat fell silent, watching the lines in the road bob along. They continued this way for about ten more minutes, before Dean pulled off the highway and onto a smaller town road.

Sam breathed an audible sigh of relief when they pulled into the parking lot of a bar, deserted at this hour but open all the same. Castiel was going to ask where they were, but Sam jumped out of the car before he could, and he started struggling with the door handle again. He and Dean got out of the car and walked towards the front door.

"Now, Cas, you get to meet some of my friends."

**Two updates in one night, because they were relatively short and I wanted to get this idea down. **

**Anyway, I still made Ellen, Jo, and Ash live/work at a bar because it would be weird seeing them anywhere else, but I didn't specify which one or a name because I never really figured out in what town they were in in the first place and didn't want to put anything where it didn't belong. **

**If that made any sense.**

**-D **


	10. Chapter 10

**Okay so apparently "Screw life, right in the face" isn't a philosophy I'm allowed to use when describing being lazy and wanting to sit around forever. **

**Well, I'll do it anyway. It's fun to say.**

**Installment 10! **

Dean and Castiel followed Sam into the bar, Cas looking at everything like it was going to jump out at him. From the stools to the bottles and glasses, he was all over the place. Dean had to tug him along by the sleeves, he'd stopped in the doorway.

"Ellen?" Sam leaned over the bar and examined the floor, as if she would be sitting back there or something. Really Sam, think before you act.

"We're in the back!" Came the call. Sam shrugged and walked around the bar to the door behind it, the door leading to the house portion.

"Alright, we're comin' in!" He returned, pushing the door open. The room he walked into was the living room, Dean and Sam hung out over here a lot, and they knew this house almost as well as they knew their own. The only difference was, Ellen had been using the same appliances since she bought the house. Jo sat on the couch, waving lazily without looking up from the television. She wasn't dressed and ready for the actual day yet, still wearing her pajamas. Ash was lying on the floor in front of the couch, looking at the wall instead of the TV. Hearing what was on, Dean couldn't blame him. He could feel the _angst_ coming from the soap from the doorway.

Castiel was still standing at the counter of the bar, poking all of the various _things_ they kept back there. Dean gestured for him to follow, and reluctantly he did so.

"Good morning, boys." Ellen greeted, walking out of their kitchen and tossing a rag at Jo. "Go get dressed!" Jo huffed and stood up, turning back to the narrow hall to the bedrooms. Ash, relieved of having to leave the program on for Jo, spun around and grabbed the remote to change the channel. He took notice of Castiel, nodding quickly before losing interest. Dean shuffled over to the couch, flopping over the arm and landing on his back.

"What's up, Ash?" He asked, introducing his fist to the back of Ash's head.

"Same old, same old. Formatting sites isn't the most interesting thing in the world."

"Dude, you need a new job." Sam laughed, taking the leftover couch space.

At this point, Jo came back out of her room, dressed. It was obvious she hadn't seen it necessary to brush her hair, though; it was still a rat's nest on the top of her head. She yawned, as if she hadn't been up for two hours before they'd come over, and then noticed Castiel.

"Mom?" She called over her shoulder into the kitchen.

"Hm?" Ellen hummed, the clatter of her dropping glasses and plates into the sink following shortly after.

"Who is this?" Jo pointed at Castiel, giving him a once-over before deciding he didn't look too menacing.

"Who's who, honey?"

"Uh…" Jo waited for her mother to look over the counter into the room, when Castiel coughed.

"My name is Castiel. I'm here to observe Dean's friends." He said, smiling. Jo blinked, looking in Dean's direction, who shrugged—awkwardly from his position.

"Ob…Serve, Dean's friends?" She inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. It has been a very long time since I've had friends on the land, and I wanted to see everything I could." Castiel continued. Jo's mouth fell open and looked back at Dean, who shrugged yet again. He wasn't being all too helpful right now, she thought.

"So you're the," Jo walked closer, examining him more closely. If Cas was uncomfortable with her staring, he didn't show it. He caught Dean's eyes, asking him silently what she was trying to do. Dean couldn't answer that; Jo did whatever Jo did. "You're the merman?" She finished finally, stepping back to a less awkward distance.

"Yes." Cas grinned, "So you understand?"

"Yeah, Dean told me all about it!" She bounced a little bit where she stood, and then calmed herself. Her eyes betrayed how exited she still was, though. She walked over to the couch and leaned back on Dean, looking Cas over again. "So how is it, underwater all the time?" She folded her hands on her lap.

Ash looked up, interested, and Sam wouldn't have admitted it, but he did too.

"Well, it's wet." It took everybody a couple of moments to find out that he was joking, but by then anything that would have been funny wasn't funny anymore. When they didn't laugh, Castiel looked nervously around the room, wondering what he had done wrong. It was the same kind of sarcastic answer that Dean would have given in his position. Had he not used the right terminology? Had times changed so much that 'wet' was no longer a word? "Damp." He corrected himself. Still nothing, but Jo and Sam exchanged confused glances. "… Soaking?" Dean shook his head, and Castiel stopped trying to fix whatever it was he'd done.

Dean was surprised he'd even tried making the joke, and would have been impressed had he not said it in a serious tone. The way he was speaking, anybody who wasn't dealing with an adult-sized baby who would probably ask what you meant would say he had a giant stick up his ass. But Dean wasn't going to do that. He didn't need to be explaining profanities to the merman in the middle of his friends' living room.

"Nice try." He managed, giving a thumbs-up. Castiel mimicked the movement, staring at it for a good while before lowering his hand again.

**Short!**

**I had some more to add to this, then read it again shortly after it'd been written and realized it was stupid so. That's gone now. **

**Well, you understand what your job is. **

**-D **


	11. Chapter 11

**Okay it's been days, and I'm sorry about that but I was…**

**Well I was actually watching Teen Wolf. Because I finished watching just about everything else interesting. **_**And I can't stop.**_** I didn't expect to like this, but it turns out I do, so I guess I'll be watching that now too. **

**Don't laugh at me, it was a heat of the moment decision and there's no going back. **

After Ash and Jo had eaten breakfast, the group of friends had crowded into the bar, where Ellen wouldn't be tempted to eavesdrop on them. This was a serious problem, Jo said, and Ellen needed to be weaned of this habit before Jo ripped all of her hair out. Castiel nodded, unsure how that would help, but he wasn't really going to question it at this time. Maybe he would ask Dean once they returned home.

Dean sat down on a stool, and Sam pulled up a chair from a table close by. The others followed suit, taking chairs and stools until they were in something akin to a circle. Cas remained standing, though, which made everyone a little uncomfortable. This was, after all, supposed to be a relaxed setting. Slouches and smiles, not straight-backed professionalism. He gave the room an air of business, and the adults fidgeted under his relentless stare. Did this guy ever blink?

Sam was about to offer to get him a seat when he looked up to see Dean and Castiel having some kind of staring contest. Not a normal staring contest, by any means. At least none Sam had seen before, considering they were basically tearing into each other with their eyes. Neither of them moved for a couple of minutes, at which time Ash snapped his fingers and returned their attention to… Whatever they were going to do in their shape-of-chairs. Dean broke the stare first, smiling nervously and nodding quickly. Castiel continued to watch the back of his head after he looked away. Sam pointed this out to Dean, who hissed under his breath for Sam to forget about it. Jo quirked an eyebrow and Dean chose to ignore it. A knowing look came onto her face, which she now shared with Sam. Dean, once again, chose to ignore it.

"So, how were you guys this morning? Hopefully better than Chuck was." Jo began, and upon seeing Sam's quizzical look, continued, "He called this morning saying that the sun was too bright and somebody should turn it off. Then he told me to stop shouting at him. He had one biblical hangover." She snorted, leaning back on her stool onto the counter. She blew a stray hair out of her face while the others got a good chuckle out.

"No, nothing like that. We still had to drive home, remember?" Sam replied. Not to mention, had even one of them come home full of liquor John would have both of their asses on a silver platter. He was serious about being able to hold their alcohol, and if they couldn't it just wouldn't sit well in their household. They always had a couple of bottles lying around on the living room carpet or near the beds or something. Sam would try to clean them up, and sometimes he would get Dean to help, but they always missed one. Be it behind John's bed or under the recliner (which was always confusing, considering something that large shouldn't be able to fit under a chair anyway) there was always that one they could never get to.

"Ah, right." Jo nodded, remembering now exactly who they were living with.

Castiel tapped Dean on the shoulder. "What is a hangover?"

Dean blinked, as if this was the most absurd question he'd ever been asked. In fact, it probably was. He silently asked Ash for some assistance, but Ash waved his hands as if to say, 'Your infant, your problem'. He turned around on his stool to look up at Castiel, who was still staring at him and just in the process of pulling his hand back. "Well, uh, it's when you drink so much that you're sort of flooded with _bad_."

"Way to go, Dean." Jo clapped sarcastically, stifling a laugh.

"I wasn't done!" Dean lied. He'd been completely ready to just leave it at that, but no, nothing he did was ever good enough for these people. "See, Cas, when you have a hangover, everything hurts you. If something is too bright, like that light there could be too bright," He pointed to the hanging lamp above the table Sam was sitting at, "it'll give you a massive headache. And every time somebody slams a door, your head basically cracks open and you just want to stay in bed all day." He smiled, satisfied with himself. Castiel had shied away from the hanging lamp, and now gave the door a wary glare.

"I will… I will try to avoid one of these hangovers. For the extent of my visit." He choked out. The merman seemed to be deciding whether or not to drop behind the counter and hide until they left this evil place.

"Alright, good. If Dad saw anybody in his house with a hangover, whoo." Dean grinned again, looking at Jo, Ash, and Sam for praise. He thought he did a pretty bang-up job with that explanation. The three faces he turned around to look at, though, were more confused than proud or envious (of his obviously brilliant explaining skills). He shrugged widely, and they shook their heads in response. Castiel seemed to have calmed down, and went back to watching Dean converse with the others.

The conversation took dramatic turns, from drunkards to dolphins and from bears to Ash's strange obsession with cartoons. He seemed to like a couple specifically, a couple whose names had slipped Dean's mind while they were talking. He wasn't really one for cartoons. Jo tried to bring up Castiel with Dean a couple of times, but he'd deflected her questions much like a child would. She huffed her disappointment, and Castiel tried to 'comfort her' by placing his hand on her shoulder and half-smiling when she turned to look. The others laughed, and Ash made a comment about how Dean needed to train Cas in the ways of the man before he went home. Dean promised to do so.

It was around that time that Ellen burst into the room from the house, causing Cas to jump as the door opened. "Jo, suit up. I've scheduled an extra practice today."

"What? Mom!" She jumped up from the stool and followed Ellen back in, the boys hearing some arguing and huffing through the wall before they guessed Jo gave up and went to get dressed. Ash apologized, asking them if they would come to the practice. Sam declined, and a moment later Dean did the same. Castiel seemed a little interested, but the guy was interested in everything and there would be other opportunities to watch a practice. Dean pulled him by the shoulders to the door, and they all said their goodbyes to Ash.

Piling back into the car, Sam groaned. He'd gotten into the back seat without putting up a fight! He hoped that wouldn't become a regular thing, the guest should obviously sit in the seats that weren't already claimed, not the younger brother and half-owner of the car!

"Alrighty, back home then?" Dean asked, looking to Castiel. Cas nodded, and Dean took off out of the parking lot.

The car ride back was a lot less annoying, considering Castiel pointed out everything of interest on the way there.

**Sorry again, guys! **

**If I can get back into the habit of regular updates, maybe.**

**-D **


	12. Chapter 12

**Alright, there's going to be more of the ocean scenery in this story, pretty soon, I think. I dunno, it sort of writes itself and I have no say. So wherever this fic wants to go is I guess the direction in which it's going. **

**For the time being…**

The Winchester house was awake by the time the boys got home, some shouting could be heard from inside. Sam and Dean shot each other a look, one that said 'not this again', and then continued to the door. Castiel was a bit more cautious, but followed along without giving it another thought.

Dean led the way into the kitchen, Sam bringing up the rear. Sitting at the kitchen table, arms folded over his chest and face red, was none other than the family friend Bobby Singer. Bobby owned an auto repair and scrap business a couple of hours out, and often dropped by to check on John and the boys, who he found couldn't be trusted with anything. Not even the heads on their necks were safe where they were concerned. John stood across the kitchen at the coffee machine, making another pot for their guest. They were arguing about something, something sport related, but they decided to stop and opted to say hello instead.

Bobby nodded in their direction, and John muttered a long, wordy greeting, wondering where they'd been and how long they'd been out. He was apparently worried when he woke up to find the rest of the house empty, as Dean was the only one who was out of the house before noon. The worry had apparently faded quickly, though, and John had turned to television to the football game reruns they'd taped a month or so ago. Bobby showed up only a half an hour ago, and they'd been trying to figure out who would win before the game was actually over. John had an unfair advantage, since it was a game he'd watched before and Bobby didn't know. They'd been in the middle of betting for their teams when the siblings and their friend walked in. Betting always got somebody to raise their voice, because they taunted each other with insults to the preferred team of the other. The neighbors had learned not to complain, and just to wait for it to blow over.

Bobby leaned back in his chair, and tipped his hat back further on his head. "Who's this?" He gestured to Castiel, who stood less than ten inches from Dean's back.

John looked up, only now understanding that there was a third person with his sons.

"This is Castiel, he's a friend of ours." Sam explained, walking over to take a seat at the table. Dean ushered Cas to do the same, and then John came around to stand behind Sam. He scrutinized Castiel from across the table, sizing him up to make sure he was fit enough to stand with his sons and call them friends. He seemed satisfied, and turned back to his coffee. Bobby called back again that he didn't need it, and he also didn't want it.

The crowd fell into a comfortable conversation, nobody asking Cas any questions aside from the "And where do you know each other from?", to which Dean answered in his stead, "From a fishing trip".

.

Later that day, Bobby went back home to tend to his wife, who was mildly ill and needed somebody to make her dinner and clean up around the house. John and the boys said their goodbyes and moved off to their own sections of the house; Sam to his room, Dean and Castiel to the basement, and John to the living room (so he really didn't have to go anywhere).

Dean flopped down onto the millennia-old beanbag chair in the corner of the recreational basement. The place was full of all sorts of things from mom's old clothes to dad's old guitars, and from there it went on to more things like VHS tapes and a paddleboat. It still puzzled Dean and Sam to this day how their father had gotten it into the basement. He and Sam had tried to bring it back up a couple of times, and hardly made it up the stairs, even after turning it on it's side. Dean had tossed it back into the pile of junk and said how it was probably no good anyway. Nothing good ever came from a paddleboat.

Castiel wandered from piece of trash to piece of trash, poking and prodding everything that stuck out of the piles or stacks, being more careful with old, dusty glass pieces and ceramics that came from their grandmother. John outright refused to bring anything from their mother's side of the family up the stairs. Dean could accept that, it was understandable. Occasionally, Cas would ask what something was, or twist a crank and some awful grinding noise would pour from an old music box or record player that was so ancient it was growing moss. Dean found himself laughing way too hard at one point, when Castiel tried to balance several boxes and balls on top of one another and been buried once his creation fell to the ground.

They hung around in the basement until dinner, at which point it was already ten o'clock and Sam had gone out drinking with a couple of his buddies from when he was in school. Dean didn't know why he kept hanging out with them; they were all losers, in his opinion. Not to mention, that Becky chick was flat-out crazy. He'd offered to get Sam a restraining order, but Sam had ignored it.

Dinner was alright; a couple of microwave pizzas and some beer. Cas enjoyed himself, but spit his beer all across the table and had it confiscated before John got to his normal antics. Dean refused to clean it up, Cas had to do it himself. Dean noticed him avoid getting himself wet, using many, many paper towels (once he'd been told what they did and how to clean up his puddle of beer). He thought it must have been a mer-folk thing, and forgot all about it.

.

After dinner and some more conversation with Dean's father about this and that, there came the sleeping situation. Castiel was wondering where he would be spending the night, and Dean said he could take his bed. Cas had refused at first, but being too tired to argue long after his exploration and all the excitement of the day, he took it. It took a bit of explaining to get him to actually sleep on the bed, since he found the mattress so much fun to bounce on. He explained to Dean that he hadn't had so much fun since he was very young, and all of his brothers and sisters were still around to play games with him. Before they had jobs and responsibilities above playing with their younger brother. Dean was too tired to talk this out with his friend, tripping him onto the mattress and telling him to "go to sleep or get out of the fucking room".

Dean found himself sleeping on the floor.

**I'm actually pretty tired myself, and this might be the first night in a couple of weeks I'll go to bed before three. **

**Well, do your thing. **

**-D **


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey, guys, guess what! My internet's down! Yaaaaaay! **

**But don't worry a bit, 'cause I found a way to update from the Kindle Fire. Which is what I've been using to do all of my online activities since it's been out. Very unreliable wifi source, though, 'cause our router isn't working either. Gettin' it fixed later today though. **

**Anyway, sorry for the wait! Here we go! **

The next morning had been something of a rush. The house's inhabitants all had their own places to be. John needed to get back out on the boat, Sam had to visit his new girlfriend (though Dean got the feeling they were just going to nerd it up in some library all day, since that was Sam's idea of a good time), and Dean and Castiel decided they would take a trip to the beach. Cas was reluctant to return to the water after such a short time on the land, and he didn't want to leave Dean just yet, but after Dean had reassured him that it was only for the afternoon he'd agreed it would be fun. Dean was glad, because there wasn't much else to do in this town, or any of the surrounding towns.

The two filled three coolers with drinks and snack foods, and filled the back of the Impala with towels and Sam's girly umbrella. Castiel asked why they were bringing so much, to which Dean replied "I'm a man, Cas, and we need to eat every hour on the hour, or we'll starve." He was pretty sure the merman knew he was joking, though.

That was how they ended up here on the beach, surrounded by towels of varying colors and sizes. Those towels also contained people of various colors and sizes. Mostly red. He saw a lot of lobster men.

Dean thought better of putting his towels down near the hoards of people, deciding that it would be for the best if fewer people knew about Castiel and his magical tail. Castiel couldn't have agreed more, he didn't seem to like attention (it confused him more than anything else). Not to mention he was staring at everyone else on the beach, being granted rather serious and angry looks in return. Dean led him to a more isolated end of the beach, fewer people because there was no life guard present. They fixed up a little tent-esq shelter, draping the towels over the angled umbrella.

Castiel took the chance at shelter from the rediculous heat, rolling side to side over the sand under the loose structure. He looked like some sort of dog, trying to get comfortable on a floor or something. Or, a fish might have been a more appropriate comparison. Dean didn't say any of these things aloud, though, settling for clicking his tongue and sitting down at the opening. Castiel stopped his rolling and sat up, a good amount of sand falling off of his clothing and out of his hair as he did so.

"So, Cas, what made ya' wanna leave the ocean so bad? Seems nice enough to me, from where I'm standing." Dean piped up after a long and peaceful silence.

"You are sitting." Cas returned.

"Yeah,"

"You already know my reasons. I wanted to see how the land had changed. And it has changed a great deal."

"Yeah, I guess. The waffle iron was a bit out of reach when you were a guppy, huh?" Dean had to laugh at his own clever statement. Castiel, as always, wasn't laughing quite as hard. Or at all.

"I was never a guppy, Dean. And your people once worshipped mine. They all knew who we were and where we resided. They took the time to speak with us when they had the chance, and they kept their distance- though that was probably more out of fear than out of respect or mutual friendship. We did tend to lose our tempers very easily and their vessels were never very sturdy." Castiel paused, and Dean wondered whether or not he was going to continue in the long gap it created. "Nothing is as it was. Old friends have long since passed, and my friends have gone. I remember there was a young girl... She would come out to the beach every morning and throw seashells into the surf. I never understood it, though she explained to me several times that they were gifts. I felt oddly close to her, but I haven't seen her in a long time. No doubt she, too, has passed away." Castiel's eyes, as Dean watched them, caught a far-away look, something sad and immeasurably lonely.

Dean waited for him to go on for several minutes, listening to the sounds of the waves and the children running out by the water yards away. When it became apparent Cas wasn't thinking about continuing, Dean turned slightly to face him. "Well, Cas, if it helps, you got me." Castiel tore his eyes from the waterline, staring into Dean's. There it was again. The ridiculous staring contest he wasn't sure he wanted to end.

"Yes. I do." Cas smiled then, his hand hovering over Dean's. "Thank you, Dean."

Dean nodded.


End file.
